Koneko Life
by Purple
Summary: A series of standalone/unrelated ficlets on the lives of our favorite florists inside our favorite flower shop. (shounen ai; warnings vary, so please read them)
1. Default Chapter

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Pairing: Ran x Ken  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Ep. 4  
Warnings: light shounen ai  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san & company.   
Completed: Sept. 23, 2001  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #01:  
Question for the Afternoon  
by Purple  
  
  
"Unique. I'd rather be unique, definitely."   
  
This was Yoji's immediate and sure answer to Omi's question that afternoon. It was one of those very rare occasions when the flower shop was empty. No girls, no noise, no distractions. There were only the four them and that little question to be thought about -- at least by the other three.  
  
_Would you rather be the best or be unique?_ : this was the question.  
  
Aya didn't even bother to look up from the tulips he was watering. Yoji's answer did not surprise him at all. And truthfully, he could care less.  
  
"Surprise, surprise," Ken muttered to himself dryly as he swept the floor.  
  
"Why?" Omi probed, talking to Yoji, as he moved pots of tiny spring flowers from one corner of the shop to the display rack by the window.   
  
"Because individuality gets the women," the playboy grinned smugly. "On the other hand," Yoji continued, "typical guys are, well, just that -- typical; no fun. I mean, just look at Ken," he said, jerking his thumb towards the soccer player.  
  
Ken immediately bobbed his head up, his eyebrows already furrowed. "Excuse me!?"  
  
"Not again," Omi thought, calmly putting down the flowerpot he was holding. Wiping his hands with his apron, he let his gaze shift warily from Ken to Yoji, and back again -- silently watching and waiting in case Ken let his temper get the best of him.  
  
Ken placed a hand on his hip indignantly. "Well, for your information, Mr. 'I-want-to-be-different', there are other girls out there who go for the good ol' stuff like chivalry and _humility_!"  
  
"Says the guy who had had only one girlfriend," Yoji muttered to Aya as he passed by the redhead who was standing by the counter; he finally felt like working on that flower arrangement Aya was nagging him about. Aya just rolled his eyes inwardly at Yoji's statement.  
  
"Are you listening to me?" Ken asked heatedly.  
  
Green eyes scanned the buckets and buckets of flowers in front of them. "Yes, I am," Yoji answered. "And I said I want to be unique, Kenken, not 'different'," he corrected, still eyeing the buckets as he rolled up his sleeves. "They're not exactly the same thing, you know."  
  
"Well they both apply to you!"  
  
"A, Ken-kun," Omi interrupted, silencing Ken on purpose. "Help me with this?" He gestured to the large clay pot he had saved for last.   
  
Ken acquiesced shortly and walked over to where Omi was. Together they then lifted the huge thing, the two of them on either side.  
  
Yoji, on the other hand, brought his flower-arrangement picks to one corner of the shop, laid them down on the table, looked over the colorful and varied mess, and remembered why he hated this job. He decided to procrastinate a little more. "So, how 'bout you, Omittchi," he turned to Omi, "best or unique?"  
  
Omi thanked Ken softly then looked at Yoji. "Huh? Oh. Well...let's see...," the youngest boy straightened, biting his lip and rubbing his chin. "I thiiink...best...yeah," he nodded, "I'd rather be the best."   
  
"Hey, and you will be, kiddo," Yoji assured the boy, reaching for his cigarette pack in his shirt pocket.  
  
Ken turned to smile at his best friend, at Omi. "He _is_." And walked back to his spot.  
  
"What about you, Ken-kun?" Omi passed the question to the brunette.  
  
Aya heard this, and so discreetly diverted his gaze and his attention to Ken, silently peering from behind scarlet locks as he waited for the answer. The question was suddenly interesting; Aya, suddenly less apathetic.  
  
Ken grabbed the broom absently and rested his chin on its tip, cushioned by his hands. "I don't know."  
  
"Too bad," Yoji remarked, studying his cigarette.  
  
Ken glared at him before contemplating the question. "Would I rather be the best...or be unique?" he asked himself quietly.  
  
Omi tipped his head to the side. "Unique?"  
  
"No way," Ken sneered. "I don't want to be like Yoji."  
  
Yoji blew a cloud of smoke. "Yeah, 'cause that would just ruin the whole idea of my being 'unique' now, wouldn't it?"   
  
Ken made a face.  
  
"The best," Omi said.  
  
Actually, Ken _had_ been the best. He was the best goalie back in his J-League days, until his own best friend ruined everything for him. Ken knew the glory of being the best, but he also knew that once you were on top there was nowhere else left to go but down.  
  
"No," Ken flinched, and shook his head furiously, "No, no, no, no, no."   
  
"So what is it then?" Yoji prodded as he started work on the arrangement, cursing when something from the bunch pricked his finger.  
  
"I don't know," Ken shrugged to the floor, "I think I'll just stick to whatever it is that's gonna make me happy."   
  
"And what will make you happy, Ken-kun?" Omi asked, studying the display rack.  
  
Ken glanced at Aya, and caught Aya staring back at him. They were both surprised by this, but neither one broke the stare. Neither one wanted to turn away. Shortly, Ken found his voice:  
  
"Aya..."  
  
Omi and Yoji looked at Ken in puzzlement.  
  
Aya froze.  
  
And a secret smile traced Ken's lips, his deep brown eyes on Aya still, "...would you rather be the best or be unique?"  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ How about you? Would you rather be the BEST or be UNIQUE? Don't forget your comments.  
  
More... 


	2. Thief in the Night

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Pairing: Yoji x Ken  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: light shounen ai  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company.   
Completed: Oct. 16, 2001  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #02:  
Thief in the Night  
by Purple  
  
  
The room was dark, save for the lights that illuminated from the TV screen and the table lamp. And it was late, so the TV's volume was set to low. On the sofa, one could trace the figure of a boy sitting, elbows on his knees, silently watching the soccer game telecast with utmost concentration.   
  
Brown eyes dared not blink as the last seconds of the game dwindled down. "Come on, come on, come on..." he pleaded and hoped earnestly, quietly, his hands balled to a fist. His external stillness a stark contrast to the game's adrenaline rush of action.  
  
He watched closely as blue and red shirts scrambled, fighting over the ball, intercepting passes with everything they got. But one player stood triumphant, his mud-covered legs delivering the ball. He was still a few yards away, and time was running out, so he decided to take his chances. He took a deep breath and gave the goal one last look before shifting his gaze back to the waiting ball; then, kicking it with all the strength left in him, sent it flying in the air, through the field, through red and blue shirts, and...  
  
"SCOOORE!" the announcer's voice exploded.   
  
"Yes!" Ken raised his fists in contained jubilation -- not wanting to wake anybody from the other rooms -- doing a little silly dance before plopping back into the couch. The first half of the game was over, and his team was in the lead. With eyes still on the screen, Ken grabbed for his soda can and found it was empty. Making a face, he put it back down, and pushed himself up from the sofa.   
  
Ken was in mid-stretch and mid-yawn when he heard a bump coming from outside his room. "What the..." he trailed off, turning to his door. He checked the time in the VCR. It was half past eleven. Tonight was a mission-free night, and he thought everybody had gone off to bed. Apparently, he was mistaken.   
  
Stepping out, Ken looked around but found no one. He then heard another bump, and it came from downstairs -- downstairs where all the lights were out; where it was obviously too dark to prepare midnight snack. Unless you liked eating in total darkness, or...you were a burglar!   
  
The boy rushed back to his room, and came out already armed with a soccer ball -- well, he was a _soccer player_; he had _soccer balls_, not baseball bats. Holding the ball with two hands, he began to silently tiptoe his way down the stairs. So here he was, Ken thought, in the dark, fairly armed, and was creeping up on an unsuspecting public offender -- so what was new? Upon reaching the bottom, he held out one hand and easily found the switch on the wall. He took a deep breath, and gave himself a mental count off:   
  
"One. . .two. . .three!"  
  
The stranger almost jumped as the lights went on. Spinning his head around, he saw Ken ready to attack him with a soccer ball overhead. "Jesus, Ken, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he said in a loud whisper while clutching his chest.  
  
Ken dropped his arms, still holding the ball, upon realizing who the person was. "Yoji?" he blurted out.  
  
"Shh!" Yoji brought a finger to his lips. "Keep it down," he ordered.  
  
Ken obeyed, and asked, "What are you doing?"   
  
"Nothing," Yoji answered. Noticing the ball Ken was holding, he asked back, "What are _you_ doing?"  
  
Ken looked at the ball in his hands, and quickly hid it behind his back. "W-Well," he cleared his throat, "I was watching a soccer game upstairs when I heard noises coming from down here," he explained, rubbing a hand on his nape. "I-I thought it was a burglar so I decided to go check and--"  
  
"And what?" Yoji interrupted. "Kill me with a soccer ball?" he motioned to the said ball. "Excellent plan, Kenken. I'm really scared for my life now," Yoji mocked, placing his hands on his chest.  
  
"Shut up!"   
  
"Shh!"  
  
"You should be thankful somebody's trying to protect our flower shop from thieves, you know!" Ken said in defense.  
  
Yoji rolled his eyes. "What kinda idiot would try to steal from a flower shop filled with assassins?"  
  
"Baka!" Ken shot back. "Do you think a thief would know that?"  
  
Folding his arms, Yoji replied, "Well, judging from your weapon of choice," he nodded to the soccer ball, "No."  
  
Ken scowled at him.  
  
"This is nonsense," Yoji held his hands up. "Look, I'm outta here," he said, putting on the coat he had been carrying.   
  
"Where are you going?" Ken asked.  
  
"Out."  
  
The younger boy rolled his eyes. "I know _that_. Where exactly is 'out'?"  
  
"Just out," Yoji replied tersely and headed for the door.  
  
Ken followed him. "At 11:30 in the evening?" he queried to Yoji's back.  
  
Yoji stopped walking, and turned around. "Ken, why are you being like my mother all of a sudden?" he asked, looking at Ken like he just grew another head. "Why should you care?"  
  
Ken blushed.   
  
"I don't," the brunette replied sheepishly, averting his gaze. "I just think you should know that...that if Aya finds out that the reason you're late again is you went barhopping, well," he shrugged lamely, "he's gonna kill you."  
  
"I'm not gonna go barhopping," Yoji countered. "And I'll be back here by the time the shop opens."  
  
"Oh, you will be _back_," Ken sneered. "The question is, will you be _awake_?"  
  
"I will be," Yoji answered, "'cause you're going to wake me up," he told Ken, lightly jabbing a finger at him. Then, folding his arms, grinned, "Or else I'm going to tell Aya about that little incident with the dehydrated lilies."  
  
Ken's jaw dropped, "You won't."  
  
"Oh yes, I will," Yoji nodded, still grinning.  
  
"You blackmailing-- Ugh! I should've hit you with the ball when I had the chance," the soccer player remarked through clenched teeth.  
  
"I know," said Yoji, grinning some more. "So," he looked down at his watch, "are you going to let this thief go or what?"  
  
Ken rolled his eyes. "Do I have a choice?"  
  
Yoji winked at him and turned on his heel.  
  
"Wait," Ken ordered, making Yoji stop abruptly.   
  
"So close," Yoji muttered to himself before turning around. "Yes?"   
  
Ken moved a step forward. "I'm gonna let you go this time, Yoji," he told him, placing the soccer ball between his hip and his forearm. "But I'm telling you," he raised an index finger, "if you're not in that bed when I-- "  
  
"I already told you, I will be."  
  
"Good," Ken nodded, "'cause I'm not gonna go save your butt once Aya gives you hell -- and you know he will," he warned Yoji, grabbing for the soccer ball by his hip.  
  
Yoji just smiled and took the ball from Ken, his long fingers coming in smooth contact with sun-tanned ones. He felt Ken froze. "Are you done?" Yoji asked quietly. His emerald gaze was soft and steady, making Ken blush.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Ken replied, timidly slipping his hands from the ball, "I guess."  
  
"Then let me just say two things," Yoji gestured with a peace sign. "Number one, thank you, but," -- lowering his voice to a condescending whisper -- "I think I can save my own butt," he smirked. "And number two, since you're letting me go this time, then, may I suggest that, next time," he raised the soccer ball, "use the claws," he told him, tossing the ball back to Ken. Catching the ball, Ken shifted his "what's wrong with this ball?" gaze between it and Yoji. "It's more threatening," Yoji explained, crinkling his nose.   
  
Ken made a face, not noticing that Yoji was already a few steps less away from him. Then, in one fluid motion, elegant fingers caught Ken's chin, taking the younger boy by surprise. "And who knows," Yoji leaned forward, bringing his lips close to Ken's ear, tickling it with his warm breath as his lips stole feather-like touches.  
  
"I just might let you catch me."  
  
And with this, Yoji sauntered out, leaving Ken speechless, soccer ball in hand -- his external stillness a stark contrast to the wild flip-flops, electric shivers, and loud thumps inside of him.  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ And yes, I know nothing about soccer -- and it's a shame since I really, really like Ken. . 


	3. Staring Match

~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Pairing: Yoji x Ken  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: light shounen ai  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company.   
Completed: Oct. 25, 2001  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #03:  
Staring Match  
by Purple  
  
  
"Why can't they just toss a coin?" Omi asked himself inwardly as his eyes darted between Ken and Yoji, watching them quietly. They had just finished dinner when Ken and Yoji got into an argument on whose turn it was to wash the dishes. Aya wouldn't even hear of it, and had already gone up to his room. Omi, on the other hand, stayed to watch and to help with clearing the table afterwards.  
  
"Give it up, Kenken," Yoji mocked, his arms folded across his chest. "You know I'm gonna beat you." His voice laced with the confidence his eyes could not reflect.   
  
"Don't be so sure of yourself, Kudo," Ken answered coolly, sitting across from Yoji on the table.  
  
"I've beaten you five out of five times before, Ken," Yoji retorted. Then shrugged, "I can't help but be sure."  
  
Lately, Ken and Yoji developed this strange habit of settling everything through a staring match -- like on who would take what shift, who would buy lunch, who would do this, who would do that, etc. And now this, whoever loses would do the dishwashing, not just for tonight, but for the next three nights.   
  
They had been at it for almost a minute now, still neither of the two budged. Green on brown, brown on green; their gazes steadfast and unflinching. The silence between them disturbed by the occasional taunting.  
  
Omi shook his head and sighed. "You two need to get a life, really," he told them, picking the rim of his plate.  
  
"Don't worry, Omi," Yoji replied, without looking at him, of course. "I will, after this."  
  
"Yeah," Ken scoffed, "'cause after I beat you, you'll be treated to a life of dishwashing for a good three days."   
  
"Or maybe because I'll be out on a date tonight," Yoji pointed out, "while you'll be stuck here with the dirty dishes."  
  
Ken stuck his tongue out.  
  
"I hate staring matches," Omi muttered and proceeded to bring his plate to the sink.  
  
Suddenly, Ken began to feel a slight sting in his eyes. Narrowing his gaze slightly, he felt tears began to form. Next, his vision became blurrier and blurrier, and the stinging sensation harder and harder to fight. His right eye twitching at first, as a reaction, before it succumbed to a full-blown blink.  
  
Yoji instantly extended his arm forward, pointing a finger at Ken. "Hah! You blinked! -- *Yes*!" he exclaimed victoriously, raising his fist and pulling it back with a sharp jerk.  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes. Yes, you did," Yoji nodded. "And _I_ win," he declared proudly.  
  
"Ah darn," Ken blurted out, his palms on his eyes as he tipped back his head.  
  
"Beat you again, Kenken," Yoji said with a big grin on his face. "Looks like you need more practice."  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Ken answered to his lap, rubbing his palms dry on his pants.  
  
"Now, if you'll excuse me, boys," Yoji pushed himself up from the table, "my date is waiting for me," the playboy announced, giving Ken and Omi a wink before strutting out of the room. "Happy dishwashing, Ken!" he waved without looking back as Ken watched him walk away.  
  
Shortly, Ken and Omi began clearing the table.   
  
"Wow, Ken-kun," Omi said, handing over the plates to Ken, "that's the sixth time Yoji-kun beat you in a staring match."  
  
"I know," Ken chuckled, "I suck at the game."  
  
"Then why do you keep playing it anyway?" Omi asked, his back on Ken.  
  
Putting on an apron, Ken simply smiled to himself and said:   
  
"'Cause I get to look into his eyes every time."  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ C&Cs are very much appreciated.  
  
More... 


	4. Bad Day Better

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Pairing: Ken x Omi   
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: shounen ai  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san & company.   
Completed: Nov. 04, 2001  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #04:  
Bad Day Better  
by Purple  
  
  
Ken opened the refrigerator door expecting to be fed. Instead, he was welcomed by the disappointing truth that Yoji had forgotten to do the groceries -- again.   
  
"Yoji..." Ken gritted as his coffee-colored eyes scanned for a snack. There were three eggs, half-eaten pizza from the other night, and leftovers he wouldn't even touch, among other things.   
  
"Ah, milk," Ken muttered. Grabbing the milk carton, he carefully dipped his nose into its opening, and flinched. "Blegh!" he stuck his tongue out. "Ew, milk," he blurted out, disgusted by the smell. Putting the carton back in, he settled for an apple he found lying on one corner of the fridge instead, looking it over before taking a big bite from it.   
  
The soccer player was about to make his way upstairs when Omi walked into the kitchen. "Hey, you're home," Ken smiled warmly.   
  
Omi didn't reply and just let his backpack slide from his shoulder to the floor like it was stuffed with two dozen books -- and maybe it was. Ken immediately noticed the tired/disgruntled look on his face. "So how was school today?" he asked, trying to sound conversational.  
  
"School officially sucks," Omi replied bitterly, dragging himself to the counter to grab a drinking glass. And Ken knew it was really that bad, because it would have made more sense to him if Omi said that gym class sucked, but school? It was not like him.   
  
"What happened?" Ken asked as Omi walked over to the refrigerator.  
  
"Things that make school suck happened," Omi answered, his tone still bitter. Reaching straight for the milk, he sniffed at it and made a face. "Yoji?" he said, raising the milk carton to shoulder-level.  
  
Ken rolled his eyes and nodded.  
  
Dumping the carton into the trash bin, Omi filled his glass with water instead.  
  
"So," Ken began, going back to the topic, "these things that make school suck -- do you want to talk about them?"  
  
Omi shook his head to the glass, and finished drinking.  
  
"Okay then...Do you want an apple?" Ken offered, raising the fruit.  
  
"She hates me, Ken-kun!" Omi blurted out, storming past Ken to the chair beside him, ignoring the apple.  
  
"Who?" Ken blinked, perplexed, following Omi with his head.  
  
"My history teacher -- Mrs. Ishino," Omi answered, occupying the chair next to Ken. "She hates me!" he cried out and let his folded arms catch his head on the table.  
  
"Did she tell you that?"  
  
"No," Omi's muffled voice answered, "but I can tell." Omi raised his head to look at the brunette, and Ken saw the frustration in glazed azure eyes. "This morning I came in six minutes late for her class, and she wouldn't let me take the test!" he cried out. "I was late for six minutes, Ken-kun," he indicated with his fingers, "six measly minutes!" Then brought his hands to his face. "I studied like crazy for a week for that test."  
  
"I know," Ken empathized, resting a hand on Omi's arm and rubbing it comfortingly; he knew how hard the younger boy studied for that test. He also knew that the reason Omi was late that morning was because he was up all night in front of the computer doing research for their next mission. "Maybe you should start turning down missions on exam nights, Omi," he suggested quietly.  
  
"No," Omi shook his head, "it's not the missions, Ken-kun." He looked at Ken again. "She just hates me. She'd do anything to make my student life a living hell," he explained. "And this morning was the worst."   
  
"So what are you gonna do now about that test you missed?"   
  
Omi rolled his eyes at the thought. "Well, as if I'm not already up to my neck with all these projects, Mrs. Ishino decided to give me a _major_ make-up project instead -- and it's due on Friday," he lamented. "I plan to do it after school if I could just stop Yasuo-kun from pestering me."  
  
"Oh no," Ken groaned at the mention of the familiar name. "What is it about this time?"  
  
"Just when I thought we have settled the science-week incident," Omi said, "now he's harassing me about hitting on his girlfriend!"  
  
Ken snickered. "Unbelievable," he remarked, shaking his head. They both knew Yasuo was terribly mistaken.  
  
"And to top it all of," Omi stressed, "I have a big test in geometry tomorrow!"   
  
Ken looked at Omi in puzzlement. "You have no problems with geometry."  
  
"I know, but I still want to rant about it," Omi huffed, making Ken smile.  
  
A hand reached for Omi's, enclosing it in its comforting warmth. Looking up, he was met by Ken's silent yet reassuring gaze, and his smile that told him that everything was going to be fine. The little gesture was enough to make Omi feel better. "Thank you, Ken-kun," he smiled quietly.  
  
Wrapping his arms around Omi, Ken pulled the boy closer. "Come here."  
  
Omi yielded to the embrace, resting his head on Ken's chest. "My teacher hates me, Ken-kun," he said weakly as Ken rubbed his shoulder. "Why does she hates me?"  
  
Ken hugged him tighter. "I don't know, Omittchi," he replied, taking in the sweet, warm smell of golden strands, and gently planting a kiss on them. "I guess I'm the wrong person to ask..."  
  
  
  
Making their way to Omi's room, Ken turned to the younger boy. "Hey," he said, bumping Omi lightly, "do you want me to talk to that Yasuo guy?" he asked. "Give him a piece of my mind?" He bobbed his eyebrows.  
  
Omi crinkled his nose and shook his head.   
  
"No, really." Ken insisted as they stopped in front of Omi's room. "Does he play soccer?" he inquired. "'Cause, you know, I can apply for your school's soccer coach position and be really, really mean to him," he kidded, his eyes glinting with a feigned nefariousness.  
  
"No," Omi replied tersely, smiling, and entered the room.  
  
"Come on, Omi," Ken pleaded, following him into the room. "You know I can't just sit here and let him harass you like that."   
  
"It's okay, Ken-kun," Omi told the soccer player, who was putting Omi's backpack down on a chair. "If I can handle those hardened criminals we're faced with in missions, what more an insecure boyfriend?"  
  
"Okay, but I'm telling you," Ken walked over to Omi, who was now sitting on the bed, "if he lays even a finger on you, _a finger_," he raised so. "I'll be all over him faster than Aya could say _shi-ne_."  
  
"Now that's fast," Omi nodded.  
  
"I know," Ken smirked. And Omi had to chuckle.  
  
Plopping down next to Omi, Ken studied the younger boy. "Hey," he said afterwards, "are you gonna be okay?"  
  
Omi nodded to his hands. "I just wish this week was over," he pouted.  
  
"Don't worry, Omi," Ken reached out to him. "I'll help you with your history project."  
  
Omi smiled at him weakly. "Thanks, Ken-kun"  
  
"No problem," Ken shrugged coolly. "And you know what else I can help you with?" he grinned.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That pout," the older boy answered, gesturing to Omi's sullen lips.  
  
"Really?" Omi pouted some more.  
  
"Yup," Ken replied, "and it's known to be the best remedy for a bad day," he declared positively, moving closer to Omi.  
  
Omi played along. "Will it make them all go away?"   
  
"I don't know," Ken shrugged innocently. "You have to find out for yourself," he said. "But I can assure you this," he hooked a finger to Omi's chin, gently making him face coffee-colored eyes, "it's definitely much better than geometry."  
  
Omi's lips ooh-ed silently, his eyes widening. "Better than geometry, eh?"  
  
Ken nodded, leaning closer, his gaze not leaving Omi's face.   
  
Azure eyes softened as a warm smile found its way to Omi's lips. "Then I'll have two, please," he said, anticipating the kiss that he knew would be much better than _anything_.  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ Let me know what you think, onegai?  
  
More... 


	5. And the Night Shifts

~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: yaoi, mature situations, language  
*The Pairing shall be revealed at the end of the story. We don't want to ruin the surprise now, do we? ^.~  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san & company. In short, *not mine*  
Completed: Nov. 17, 2001  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #05:  
And the Night Shifts  
by Purple  
  
  
Yoji was sure it was going to be another hot date, because in the car on the way home, they could barely keep their hands off each other. Because upon reaching the driveway, he hoped everybody inside would be fast asleep. Because as soon as they reached his bedroom, he and his female companion for the night were inseparable -- lips and limbs.  
  
Standing inside Yoji's dimly-lit room, with their arms wrapped around each other, Yoji and his date greedily exchanged bruising kisses, her fingers entangling his golden strands before letting her hands slide to his chest. Clutching Yoji's coat collar, the girl began pushing the garment off his shoulders. Yoji helped her with it, tossing the coat aside and sending it to the floor.  
  
Stepping back, the girl then removed her coat, her deep blue eyes staring at Yoji teasingly as she revealed the red-hot décolleté dress she had on.   
  
"Have I told you how much I love that dress?" the playboy smirked.  
  
"Then take a good look at it now, Yoji," she smiled cattily, her hands on her hips, "'cause it won't be there later."  
  
Yoji closed the distance between them once again, grabbing her small waist to pull the tall girl towards him. Needless to say, more tongue-lashing took place as the two blindly made their way to Yoji's bed. Falling back on the soft cushion, Yoji began kissing down the girl's long neck, making her moan. He felt feminine fingers unbutton his dark blue silk shirt, which soon joined the growing pile on the floor.  
  
Suddenly, a small beeping sound echoed from the mess at the bottom. It came from her purse. It was her pager. Ignoring it at first, they let the pager do its thing a little longer before Yoji rolled over to let his date go check.   
  
"Um, may I use your phone?" the girl asked after reading the message, raking her stylishly cropped hair.  
  
"Sure, downstairs," Yoji gestured. "I'll go with you."  
  
"No, it's okay. I'll find it," she smiled as she put her pager back in her purse. With a final teasing remark, she excused herself, leaving the door ajar on her way out.  
  
Lighting himself a cigarette, Yoji did not bother to put his shirt back on as he walked over to his window. He opened it halfway up to let the breeze cool him down. Through the cold glass, Yoji watched quietly as nightlife passed him by, the view blurred by the occasional cigarette smoke.  
  
After a while, Yoji heard footsteps from outside his room. Grinning slyly, he flicked his cigarette out the window, and rushed to the other side of the room to turn his lamplight out. Now in the dark, he waited silently, standing at the side of the door where he wouldn't be seen when it was opened.  
  
As soon as a figure appeared, Yoji quickly seized its wrist and pulled the person into the darkness, towards him. "What took you so long?" he purred. Cupping cool cheeks, Yoji didn't give the person a chance to answer as he had dipped his lips for a kiss. He felt the other gasped.  
  
Immediately at the touch of their lips, Yoji marveled at how soft the girl's lips were, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed this earlier, these wonderful lips. Blaming it on the drinks he had that night, and the rough and raging kisses they shared earlier, he decided to take it easy this time.   
  
Yoji kissed her slowly at first, teasing velvet lips which he could feel were hesitating. But he knew she would eventually respond. And she did after a while, slowly but surely melting into the kiss. And only when she began to do this that Yoji deepened the experience, making it long and sensuous. Tracing the sweetness with his tongue, he felt her lips part slightly, quietly welcoming him, her cold fingers grazing Yoji's bare arm as he took her breath away.  
  
This kiss was nice, Yoji thought, _really_ nice.  
  
Although the kiss they were sharing now was pleasantly and surprisingly different from the other ones, it was only when Yoji let his hands roam from her cheeks to her shoulders that he noticed something _really_ different: her evening dress felt like the fabric of a T-shirt...no, wait. He let his hands roam some more, and--  
  
Oh, shit -- emerald eyes shot open -- It _was_ a T-shirt!  
  
Pulling away, Yoji quickly extended an arm to the light switch on the wall and turned to see who the T-shirt-wearer was.  
  
And he couldn't believe his eyes...  
  
"Aya!" Yoji gasped, his eyes saucer-like.  
  
The redhead stood rooted to his place, and was just as confused and breathless as Yoji was. Fingers on his lips, Aya could feel his cheeks burn as he gazed blankly at the floor.  
  
"Wha-what are you doing here?" asked Yoji, bewildered; finally able to form a coherent sentence.  
  
Looking up at the tall blond, Aya opened his lips, but no words came out. He tried again. Still nothing. Wishing to avoid further embarrassment, he turned to leave instead.  
  
"Wait," Yoji called out, grabbing him by the wrist.  
  
Aya froze to the touch.   
  
"Wait," Yoji repeated, more softly this time, as he let Aya's wrist go.  
  
"Oyasumi," Aya blurted out, hesitating to turn around to face the older man. On his way out, he bumped into Yoji's date -- who was just as tall as Aya. The younger man was able to grunt out an apology without looking at her.   
  
The girl recognized the aloof redhead from the flower shop. "Was that-- ?"  
  
"Aya," Yoji finished, still watching Aya's retreating back.  
  
The girl nodded, looking at Aya, too. "Um, Yoji," she turned back to the distracted playboy as Aya's bedroom door closed, "I'm sorry but we have to cut this night short."  
  
Yoji remembered asking her why, but his mind was too swirly to remember what her reason was. The next thing he knew he was offering her a ride to wherever it was she needed to be. And he also remembered the girl kissing him softly as thanks...  
  
But it wasn't the same.  
  
  
  
Later that night, Yoji returned home. Making his way up the stairs, he stared blankly at each wooden step, thoughtful and unable to think at the same time.   
  
Remembering, for the hundredth time that evening, the kiss he and Aya shared, Yoji knew that things were going to change between them because of it. Because it was the only thing he could think about in the car as he sat quietly next to his "hot date." Because upon reaching home, he hoped Aya would still be awake -- tossing and turning, the way Yoji did inside his head -- thinking about what happened, too.   
  
Because instead of retiring to his bedroom, here he was, standing in front of Aya's room, with his nervous hands in his back pockets, finding in himself the courage to knock...  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Psst! Got comments?   
  
Thanx for reading! And thank you, thank you, *thank you* to those wonderful people who'd been commenting on these ficlets. I appreciate it very much. ^_____^  
  
Pairing: Yoji x Ran  
  
More... 


	6. New Year with a Bang

~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Pairing: Ran x Ken  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: shounen ai, language, sexual innuendo  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san & company. In short, *not mine*  
Completed: Jan. 02, 2002  
Dedication: for Stefi, Finger, Bridget and Vasiliki. ^_^  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #06:  
New Year with a Bang  
by Purple  
  
  
Sitting on the mission room couch, a small book in his right hand, Aya relaxed to the pleasure of reading as his other hand gently stroked Ken's coffee-colored locks that were sprawled on his lap. The lying brunette sighed contentedly, a remote control in his hand.  
  
With Omi fast asleep in his room and Yoji out partying somewhere, that evening, Aya and Ken took the chance to spend some quiet time by themselves.   
  
Flipping channels, Ken caught a holiday greeting from one local TV station being flashed on the screen.   
  
"Aya," Ken uttered softly as he clicked on the remote control. "Aya," he repeated, tapping on Aya's knee.  
  
Aya mumbled out a reply.   
  
"Tomorrow is New Year's eve," Ken reminded, "have you made your New Year's resolution?"  
  
"No," Aya replied, his eyes not leaving the page he was reading.  
  
"Not yet?"  
  
"Not ever."  
  
Ken looked up from Aya's lap. "How come?" he asked. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to change something for improvement."  
  
"Making resolutions isn't going to change anything, Ken," Aya remarked to the book, cynical.  
  
"But you haven't even tried it yet."  
  
Aya shrugged.  
  
"I know," Ken smiled, an idea forming in his head as he rolled over to sit and face Aya. "Let's come up with our resolutions right now," he said excitedly, taking Aya's book away from him.  
  
"Ken," Aya protested futilely as he watched Ken set aside his book. "I was reading that," he told him.  
  
Ken just grinned sweetly at him. "Come on, Aya, it doesn't have to be really big, something simple would do."  
  
Aya sighed, barely paused to think, then shrugged, "I can't think of any."  
  
"Then I'll go first," Ken announced, shifting his weight against the bulky cushion. "This year I think I'm going to try tooo...be a little less hot-headed."  
  
Aya shook his head. "Bad idea."  
  
And Ken tipped his sideward. "Why?"  
  
"Because you're cute when you're mad," Aya remarked casually.   
  
Ken stuck his tongue out, a light shade of pink staining his cheeks. And Aya thought Ken was cute when he was being that way too.  
  
"Okay, your turn." Ken tugged at Aya's sleeve.  
  
"I can't think of any, Ken."  
  
"Aya, you're not even trying," Ken chided. "Okay, how about this," he raised his hands to his chest, palms facing Aya, "this year you're going to try to be a little nicer to our young female customers."  
  
Aya winced at the thought. "That's not a resolution, that's a challenge."  
  
"Get into the season, Aya." Ken nodded at him, playfully tugging at an eartail.  
  
Grabbing Ken's wrist, Aya brought sun-tanned arm over his shoulder, pulling the boy towards him. "How about this year I..." Aya trailed off, slowly closing the distance between them, their lips meeting for a kiss.  
  
Ken smiled against Aya's lips, snaking his arms around the redhead's neck. And as the kiss deepened, Aya grabbed Ken by the hips and guided him over to Aya's waiting lap. Ken acquiesced, and blindly straddled the older boy, making Aya hiss.   
  
"I thought I heard noises coming from down here," a voice suddenly said.  
  
The two broke the kiss, and saw Yoji standing at the bottom of the spiral staircase, a teasing smile on his face.   
  
"Come on, you two, get a room," Yoji kidded.  
  
Ken sighed sheepishly, burying his face on the crook of Aya's neck, while Aya nonchalantly scratched at an elegant eyebrow, not bothering to turn his head around.  
  
"You're home early," Ken said, getting off of Aya. "How was the party?"  
  
Yoji waved a dismissive hand. "Next question, please."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Yoji replied, stifling a yawn. "It was so boring, there's probably more action going on down here than back at that party," the playboy quipped with a smirk.  
  
"Shut up, Kudo!" Aya snapped.  
  
"Aya and I were just talking about our New Year's resolutions," Ken told him.  
  
"Oh, was _that_ what you were doing?" mocked Yoji.   
  
Ken made a face. As Aya shook his head quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose.   
  
"Yeah, and if you know what's good for you, you'd make one for yourself, too," said the soccer player.  
  
"My New Year's resolution...hmm..." Yoji folded his arms, "let's see...I think this year I'll..."  
  
"Knock before you enter?" Aya muttered, and Ken nudged him.  
  
"I'll try to quit smoking," Yoji nodded.  
  
Ken gasped, surprised with the answer. "Really!?" And Yoji scoffed at his reaction.  
  
"No," the blond then replied curtly.  
  
Ken rolled his eyes. "I knew it was too good to be true."  
  
"Ken, I'm only gonna quit if Aya could do it more times than I could in one night, and live to tell about it," Yoji bragged.  
  
Ken gave Yoji a confused look. "Do wha-- ?"  
  
"Don't ask," Aya cut in, making Ken pause. "Trust me."   
  
Violet eyes narrowed as they gave Yoji a warning glare. And the playboy had to laugh.   
  
"Goodnight, people," Yoji waved, strutting out of the room.  
  
"The smug bastard," Aya thought as he leaned back against the couch. Sometimes Yoji could really get on his nerves.  
  
"What's that all about?" Ken asked afterwards, puzzled.   
  
"Nothing," Aya grumbled as he grabbed for the remote control, "just Yoji being his shameless self."   
  
"Hm," Ken shrugged with a lopsided smile, brushing the petty topic aside as Aya would prefer. "Anyway, so what about you?" he prodded.  
  
"What about me?" asked the redhead absently.  
  
"Your resolution, remembe~r?" Ken said. "Aya, there's gotta be something you would want to do that would make you feel good about yourself afterwards."   
  
If there was one thing that would make Aya feel good right now it was to beat Yoji to his bedroom numbers game so that he could take what the condescending playboy had just said, roll it to a ball and shove it up his-- well, shit...  
  
_Why not?_  
  
A nefarious glint passed violet eyes, liking the idea that was running through them.  
  
"Where are we going?" Ken blurted out as Aya's warm hand suddenly took his, leading him to the staircase.  
  
"To my room," Aya replied tersely.  
  
"Your room?" Ken almost missed a step.  
  
"I've thought of my New Year's resolution, Ken," Aya told him.  
  
"And what is it?" asked the younger boy.  
  
Aya simply raised an elegant eyebrow.  
  
"I'm going to make Yoji quit smoking...And I insist we start working on it tonight."  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ Any and all comments are welcome.  
  
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	7. Bath Time

~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Pairing: You'll see. ::grins::  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: yaoi, sexual innuendo  
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san & company. In short, *not mine*   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
K o n e k o L i f e #07:  
Bath Time  
by Purple  
  
  
"Seriously Yoji, how dirty are you?"  
  
Ken crossed his arms impatiently to the closed door, talking to the aforementioned person who was inside the bathroom.   
  
Ken had just come home from coaching the neighborhood kids' soccer team, and was looking forward to a nice quick shower before meeting a friend when Yoji beat him to the tiled room. And knowing the man, it would probably be the longest "five-minute" shower ever.  
  
"Seriously Ken," the blond poked his head out, "how badly do you wanna see me naked?" he smirked then quickly shut the door again.  
  
"Will you please hurry up!" Ken snapped. "I'm gonna be late!"  
  
"Late for what?" Yoji probed, now standing under the showerhead, tilting his head back as he let the cool water wash him down.  
  
"Well," Ken swallowed, "my...date," he answered sheepishly.  
  
"Hah! You -- Hidaka Ken -- have a date?" scoffed the playboy. "Good one, KenKen!"  
  
"I do!"  
  
"And I thought you weren't one to lie," Yoji remarked as he ran his hands through his wet hair.  
  
"Ugh!" Ken rolled his eyes then checked the time on his wristwatch. "Look, I'm just gonna go get my stuff," he told the man on the other side of the door, "but when I come back you better be outta there, clear?"   
  
No answer.   
  
Tilting his head back limply, Ken moaned, "Why me?"  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Where _is_ it?" Ken gritted as he dug through one of his drawers, looking for his other sock -- because socks, like Yoji, thought they were funny like that, playing silly games like hide 'n' seek when you don't have the time for it. "Stupid sock, I know I-- "  
  
"Ken-kun, telephone," a voice suddenly said, making Ken look up and see Omi standing by his bedroom door.   
  
"'Kay, thanks," the brunette replied, pushing the top drawer back in and pulling another one out. "Nah, I already checked this one..." he muttered.  
  
"What are you looking for?" asked Omi.   
  
Ken turned his back to the drawers to look around the room. "My other sock," he answered, scratching his head.  
  
Omi let out an amused sigh. "Ken-kun, didn't I tell you before to roll them together after washing so they wouldn't be separated?" he reminded the older boy who was now on all fours, checking under the bed.  
  
"But that takes time," Ken cried out.  
  
"And so does this," Omi gestured around.  
  
Pushing himself up, Ken walked over to young blond and slung an arm around his shoulders, leading him out of the room. "Omi, I swear, sometimes you sound just like my mother," he kidded. And Omi nudged him.  
  
On their way to the staircase, Ken caught the bathroom door being closed and locked from the inside. "Oi! Yoji, quit playing!" he warned as they passed in front of it.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
After the quick telephone conversation, Ken was quiet as he made his way back upstairs. His date had called him up to let him know she couldn't make it. And it wasn't like he was "devastated" about the whole thing, but he really was looking forward to being with her, though. Stopping in front of the bathroom, Ken took a hand out of his pocket and knocked on its door.  
  
"Aya. . ." the voice inside uttered.  
  
"No, it's me. Ken," the brunette answered to his shoes, "My date just got cancelled so-- "  
  
"So good..."  
  
Ken's mouth dropped open. "Why, thank you, Mr. 'Sensitive'," he shot back, hurt. "Just when I was about to let you use the shower to your heart's content too."  
  
"Y-yes..."  
  
"_But_," the soccer player cut in, "I change my mind; I need to get out of these clothes" -- he looked down at his tired-looking blue shirt and grass-stained pants -- "so, hurry up, will ya?"  
  
"...Mmm..." Yoji answered.  
  
"O-kay then," Ken shrugged, "I'll just-- "  
  
"Uhh!"  
  
The sound made the boy stop abruptly as he was just about to walk away. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Mmmyeah..."  
  
"Are you sure?" Ken asked dubiously. "You sound like you're on medication or something," he remarked. "Yoji?"   
  
"I'm gonna come-- "  
  
The brown-eyed boy gave the door a puzzled look. "You mean, you're coming," he corrected.  
  
"Oh-- !"  
  
"Geez, what's wrong with you, Kudo?" Ken muttered.  
  
"Oh gods-- Aya. . .Aya-! "  
  
"Aya? What the--?"  
  
"Ken-kun, have you seen Aya-kun?" Omi suddenly appeared beside him. "Sakura-chan is downstairs, looking for him."  
  
Ken shook his head confusedly. "I'm...I'm not sure, Omi...I..."  
  
Omi noticed the strange look on the older boy's face. "Are you okay, Ken-kun? What's going on?"  
  
"I-I don't..." Ken trailed off.  
  
"Who's in there?" Omi nodded to the door.  
  
"Okay, I'm done!" Yoji announced as he opened the door, Ken and Omi welcoming him with puzzled expressions.  
  
"Yoji," Ken replied to the man.  
  
"Hm?" Yoji smiled at the two boys, a small towel carelessly riding low around his hips. "Hey, didn't you wanna use the bathroom?" he said to Ken.  
  
Ken quickly snapped himself out of puzzlement. "It's about freakin' time!" he lashed out at Yoji.  
  
The tall blond shook his head condescendingly. "You have to understand, KenKen, there are some things in this world that you just can't rush," Yoji pointed out coolly.  
  
Chocolate-brown eyes glared at the playboy as he stepped out of the bathroom. "You suck!"  
  
"No," Yoji countered with a smirk then jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the redhead who suddenly, quietly appeared from behind him.  
  
"But Aya did."  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
  
Thanx for reading! ^_^ So, how was it?  
  
More... 


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